Magic in the Air Tonight
by Writer-in-the-making16
Summary: Two cousins, descendants of Tiana and Naveen, discover their family's froggy secret and fall under the curse. Together they must set out on an adventure to break the spell and return human. After all, history does tend to repeat itself...DISCONTINUED.
1. Prologue

Summary: The year is 2011. Jordan Harris is your average American teenager who works at her family's restaurant in New Orleans. Aylina Omnikali is a royal teenage princess from the North African Kingdom of Maldonia. When Aylina comes to New Orleans to visit Jordan, these two girls will be thrown into an adventure as spicy and diverse as a pot of gumbo. Together they will unlock a family secret, meet a descendant of the Shadowman, encounter powerful Voodoo magic, befriend talking creatures, find love and learn the importance of what really matters in life.

Prologue

"…_.Once upon a time, in the bustling city of New Orleans, there lived a little girl whose dream was to open a fine restaurant with her Daddy. Sadly, her father died before this could happen. As the years passed, the little girl grew into a beautiful young woman, who worked day and night as a waitress to obtain money for her restaurant._

_One day, a jazz fanatic prince from a faraway land came to visit New Orleans. It was there, in a district known as the French Quarter that he encountered a witchdoctor known as the Shadowman. He bamboozled the Prince and placed a powerful enchantment upon him._

_That night, the waitress went to a masquerade ball at a friend's request. Heartbroken that she may not get her dream, she looked upon the Evening Star and made a wish. Next thing you know, a frog appeared beside her and started to talk! This frog was indeed the Prince, who, believing that the young woman was a princess, asked her to kiss him to turn human. She did, but instead of the Prince becoming human, she became a frog too. _

_Together the two frogs set out on an adventure through the bayou, befriending a trumpet-playing alligator and a romantic Cajun firefly. The alligator and firefly told them to seek out the good Voodoo Queen Mama Odie, to help them break the spell. Along the way, the Prince began to fall in love with the waitress-turned-frog._

_When the troupe reached Mama Odie's, she told them the only way they could turn human was for the Prince to kiss the Mardi Gras Princess before midnight. Unfortunately, on the way back to New Orleans, the evil Shadowman tried to stop the two frogs by taking the prince and dissuading the waitress. He was unsuccessful, and the frogs reached the Mardi Gras Princess, but the Prince did not receive a kiss before midnight. However, the two frogs decided that as along as they were together, nothing else mattered. _

_They returned to the Bayou where Mama Odie married them. As they kissed, the frogs became human again, for the waitress was now a princess, and by kissing the Prince she had broken the spell. _

_The couple returned to New Orleans for a second royal wedding. Together, they bought the place for the Princess's restaurant and worked hard until it was open for business. The gala night was a huge success and the Frog Prince and his Princess lived happily ever after…."_

"The end," Jordan sighed happily as her mother finished with the tale. The rambunctious five-year-old snuggled deeper under the soft sheets of her bed, feeling very sleepy after another long, beautiful day in her world.

"That's my favorite story, Mommy," she murmured beneath the covers.

Her mother, whose name was Ashia, chuckled softly. "I know it is _nomia_," she said. "You ask for it almost every night." Ashia gathered little Jordan in her arms, giving her a quick cuddle before seeing her drift away into sleep. "Tell mommy, why do you like 'The Frog Prince' so much?" she added playfully.

Jordan sat up in bed, trying to think of an answer. She wasn't entirely sure _why_ she was drawn to this particular fairytale. A part of her young mind thought it seemed so….real, with the incorporated elements of Voodoo, Cajun cooking, jazz music, and a story setting in her home of New Orleans. These factors made her mother's retelling of 'The Frog Prince' fascinating and bright.

Besides, who could resist the strong-willed heroine, a charming prince, talking animal friends and magical spells? There would be no adventure or appeal to the story without them.

Giving up on a simple answer, Jordan shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I just do," she said.

"You know, when I was your age, _'Di Fraggi Pruto' _was my favorite bedtime story too, yet to this day I still do not know why," Ashia told her daughter. The young woman closed her eyes, lost in a whirlwind of past memories. "I remember my own Mama would read it to me, when she had the time that is, but it was my grandmother's version that truly sparked my interest. I would lie in her arms as she spun a tale of frogs and kisses, jazz-playing alligators and romantic fireflies, Voodoo and hoodoo, and a dream that seemed impossible to reach, but was achieved in the end."

"You mean like great-grandma Tiana and her restaurant?" piqued Jordan.

"Yes, exactly like your great-grandmother Tiana and her restaurant."

A knock was heard on the door just then. A young African-American man, with charcoal brown skin and a small, tidy afro stepped into the little girl's room. The light from the hallway illuminated his tall form and large, loving smile as he gazed at the two females before him.

"And how are my princesses doing tonight?" he asked in a light Southern accent.

"Daddy!" Jordan cried happily. Her father strode across the bedroom toward his daughter and his wife, wrapping them in a bear-like embrace. Jordan giggled with mirth as warm, strong arms enclosed around her.

"Thought you'd be asleep by now, baby girl," he commented.

"Mommy was tellin' me a story," said Jordan.

"The Frog Prince?" her daddy asked knowingly.

"What else Scott?" Ashia retorted.

"Good point," he chuckled. "Well now darlin', since you've had such a lovely fairytale told to you by your wonderful mother, it's time to close those pretty lil' brown eyes and get some sleep," Scott said, re-tucking his daughter under the covers. Jordan obliged, realizing how very tired she had become.

As the couple began to exit the room, leaving her in peace, Jordan softly whispered, "Mommy? Daddy?"

"Yes _nomia_?" answered Ashia.

"Do fairytales and wishes come true in real life?" she asked.

Her mother sighed. "Well, not often, no."

Scott added in, "But dreams can come true, if you believe in 'em with all your heart and work hard to get there."

Ashia nodded. "That's right. You can wish on the Evening Star all you want, but that will only bring you part of the way unless you help it along with some grit and determination."

She paused there, recalling words of wisdom from long ago, given to her by her grandmother. Clasping her husband's hand with hers, she said, "However Jordan, do not let your dreams consume all your time. By doing so, you could lose sight of what is really important. Maybe miss something truly magical someday."

Jordan only vaguely nodded her curly head, not entirely sure what her mommy was talking about. By now, she was too exhausted to care. With a final goodnight kiss from her parents, she drifted off into a content, soundless sleep.

As the tiny princess wandered away into her dreams, the Evening Star and her companion watched silently from above, their radiant glows shining softly through the window, ready to grant the wishes of this special little girl when she would need it most.

* * *

_**My first story for fanfiction. Please be kind; read and review!**_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

New Orleans, Louisiana

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Urgh, I_ _really _hate_ that clock_, Jordan moaned silently. A moment ago, she had been lost in the dark abyss of dreamless sleep, perfectly content with her motionless state of rejuvenation. Nothing it appeared could possibly disrupt this repose.

Until that dang alarm clock killed her peaceful slumber.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Maybe if she ignored it, the sound would die off.

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Groaning loudly, Jordan turned over in bed to face the source of reckoning. A deep brown hand reached for her nightstand, searching for her clock to turn off the alarm. The 16-year-old sat up in her snug bed, grudgingly rubbing her tired eyes. The unruly curls of her afro mane fell against her face, obscuring her vision further. A huge puff escaped her lips in an attempt to blow the stray curls out of her perceptual orbs.

Jordan felt the stiff ache of her muscles as she stretched out her arms. Every fibre of her upper body seemed to cry out in agony. Considering the fact that she had worked a double shift for the past two nights at the restaurant, it was to be expected. Either way, Jordan ignored the pain. It was a familiar feeling she had gotten use to over the past three years.

_Maybe I should just stay in bed. It's still early; only 8:30_, she thought. The idea sounded intriguing, however the teenager thought reluctantly against it. Jordan was not what one may call an early riser, yet once she was awake she could never fall back asleep. Besides, her mom would be needing her to come in today; pre-preparations for the gala in three weeks time. There was no way she was missing that.

With slightly more enthusiasm than before, Jordan kicked off her bed sheets and sauntered over to her walk-in closet. Grabbing an old pair of jeans and a green tank top, she prepared herself for another bustling, demanding day in the city of New Orleans.

* * *

Yvanoi Palace, Maldonia

Rays of sunlight streamed through the floor-to-wall balcony windows in the bedchamber of Aylina Omnikali, Princess of Maldonia. The young royal of sixteen years lay peacefully upon a bed of silk and expensive cotton, undisturbed by the outside world. Her mind flashed through colorful images of pulsing lights and bright, sweat-drenched party dresses. Somewhere in the background, music played; a hip-swaying tune that may call you to dance, or stay frozen in place, listening with wonder…

The sun finally reached Aylina in her bed, its warmth awakening the sleeping beauty as if by magic. Slowly, she opened her eyes, yawning gently while stretching out lazily, like a cat. The princess lay back down for a moment, soaking in the sun's light as though it was a soft caress of affection.

_Achidanza_, she thought. _How I love mornings. The sun's warmth on my skin, silken sheets beneath my body, jazz playing softly throughout the room…_

Aylina paused there. Jazz music? Not that she objected, but why would there be _any _music being played at this hour? Aylina swung her long legs over the bed, walking toward the antique record player on her desk. Sure enough, the ancient machine was operational, with her copy of 'Honeysuckle Rose' playing smoothly across the turntable.

All at once, she remembered why the record player was on. She had requested Zarha to have a selection running when she returned last night from another party in town. In her exhaustion, Aylina had forgotten to turn off her great-grandfather's phonogram. Oh well. At least now she had a new demand for her serving maid; to be awakened to jazz music every morning.

The princess glanced at the clock on her desk; 7:00 am, it said. Zarha would not be here to attend to her for another hour. _Maybe I should consider what to wear for today, save Zarha the time and fuss_, Aylina deemed. _Perhaps the red satin dress? No, too hot for this heat…ah, what about my blue chiffon? It'd be perfect for touring around town._

A soft wind picked up, flowing through the open doors of her private balcony, bringing forth the sweet scents of Moroccan roses, jasmine and lilies. The light, airy perfume captured Aylina's senses, filling her head with visions of swirling flowers dancing upon the breeze.

Grinning, Aylina waltzed out through the doorway of the balcony, overlooking the exulted royal grounds of the palace and out towards the city of Isola Sivaan. Beyond that, the dark blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea sparkled under the sun. It was to be another beautiful, carefree day in Maldonia.

* * *

"Order up!"

"Miss, I need more napkins!"

"Can I get another ice tea here?"

"A plate of your finest beignets, please chere."

The voices of hungry customers rang across the high, elegantly adorned ceilings of _Tiana's Palace_, the finest restaurant in all of the Crescent City. The establishment was well known by locals and patrons to be a lively fusion of swinging jazz music and delicious Cajun food, especially famous for their beignets. It just so happened to be the very same restaurant that Jordan's family owned and operated.

"Coming right up! Yes sir, I'll get to you in just a moment. Excuse me; were you the one who needed a napkin?" Jordan answered, whisking from table to table throughout the main floor. Business was slow for normal standards that afternoon, with only Jordan and a few other waiters on duty. Still, over half the seats were occupied in the building, the charge to get from one end to another much needed.

"Jordan, y'all get this to table 3, ya hear?" the head waiter, Virgil, said to her as he handed over a plate of beignets.

"Sure thing, Virgil," she returned, grabbing the steaming hot pastries. With quick, practiced steps she walked gracefully over to where a middle-aged man waited eagerly for his beignets.

He smiled in satisfaction when biting into the fried dough, savouring the sweet taste that melted into his mouth. The gentleman acknowledged Jordan with a wave and happy grin, pulling out his wallet for a generous tip.

Jordan smiled and waved back, collecting her money and moving on to the next table. When that customer had been served, she stepped into the kitchen, made a fresh batch of beignets, and assisted the younger cooks before heading out again.

Jordan loved working around the old restaurant. Sure, there were times it could be tiring and exhausting, but she loved the rush of customers, the vibrancy of energy, the feel of accomplishment when she completed a task right, or when a hungry customer sampled her cooking and smiled in satisfaction. She prided herself in knowing that she could make people happy with good food in a vibrant atmosphere.

"Jordan!"

Her dad's voice pulled Jordan out of her focused trance. "Yeah Daddy?" she called back to him.

"Put that tray down. Your mama needs help with the banner."

"But the orders-"

"I'll get it for you," Scott reassured, gently removing the tray from his daughter's hands. "Ya know you really shouldn't be workin' so hard. Its summer vacation darlin'. A time to relax, rejuvenate."

"I'm perfectly fine," Jordan replied. Trusting her daddy not to screw up the orders, she made her way over to the _Palace's _entrance. Ashia was perched atop a ladder, trying to attach one end of a huge, deep green silk banner to a balcony post. The other side draped dangerously close to the ground, threatening to send Ashia toppling over.

"Ah, Jordan," her mom gasped, struggling to maintain her balance. "Could you grab the other end?" she requested, motioning to another ladder propped against the other side of the entranceway.

"Yes Mama," Jordan obliged, taking hold of the banner.

"Oh, I cannot believe it's that time of year again," the princess murmured to her daughter as she ascended the ladder. "The rush to get this place ready for our anniversary is crazier than ever. I still have to arrange menu courses, call the florists, have the staff's new uniforms ordered in, if they ever arrive…"

"And it'll be perfect, as it always is by your touch." Jordan grabbed a handful of the banner's fabric to hold in place, loping it over the railing and finishing off with a sharp tug. She repeated the action a few more times before the banner was secure.

Ashia smiled. "Thanks, I'll be needing that." "By the way," she added, "Your uncle James is taking care of Caden and Cassie. I did promise that I would pick them up at 4:00, but looks like I will be stuck here for the rest of the day, so could you…?"

"No worries Mama, I'll get the Dynamic Duo home safe and sound," Jordan joked, but promised. They were done securing the banner, now gracefully draped over the balcony with the ends gliding down in a thick wave. The rich color of the fabric shone subtlety against the chandelier's lights. Upon the banner, written in gold was, '2011: Celebrating 85 years of Good Business and Joyous Memories.'

_And hopefully many more to come_, Jordan thought happily.

In three weeks time, the 85th anniversary gala for _Tiana's Palace _would occur, with folks from all walks of life coming in to celebrate. Whether a member of New Orleans' rich and famous, or your average working man with a stomach for good food, the _Palace_ brought people together like family. It was a place of comfort and welcome.

Jordan stole a glance at the portrait of her great-grandmother, the founder of their fine establishment, hanging on the wall below. Tiana Lambert had opened the _Palace _more than eighty years ago, way back in 1926. In that same year she had married Jordan's great-grandfather, Naveen Omnikali, Crown Prince of Maldonia at the time, and became a royal Princess.

It seemed like a perfect fairytale come true, marrying a dashing prince and opening up a restaurant you've dreamt of since childhood. Jordan had heard their love story dozens of times when she was little. Her mother had retold it in the form of 'The Frog Prince', as though the old fable of magic spells and talking amphibians was factual history. At 16, Jordan considered herself too mature to believe such nonsense. In real life, Voodoo magic didn't exist and hard work, not wishing on stars, got you what you wanted.

* * *

In Aylina's world, it was cool. Cool was the waters that lapped against her skin. Cool was the shade overcastting its shadow above the hot grounds of the palace. Cool was the iced _sharbazan_ she consumed earlier, sliding down her parched throat, tickling her insides with sweet, frosty relief.

Late afternoon was the perfect time to float upon a chaise and relax, a time to think and reflect upon the day's events. For Aylina, it had been an unflustered day consisting of music lessons, leisure reading, exploring the market bazaars in the city and acquiring a vintage jazz record from 1932; oh, how she bantered with that old grasping _proyectista_ for nearly an hour just to get that recording. Only when he learned of her status as a member of the Royal Family did he cooperate, even offering to give the music away for free. One of the many perks of being a princess.

"You know, if you spend all your time in the pool, you'll be a wrinkled little lady by the time you reach eighteen," a masculine voice called.

Aylina removed her sunglasses to glare at her older brother Isidro. The twenty-year-old prince was lounging in one of the reclining lawn seats surrounding the patio area, a legal book by his side and a laptop settled between his legs. He had a suppressed smirk on his handsome face, annoying Aylina greatly.

"Are you, of all people attempting to be funny, Isidro?" she answered back. "I was led to believe that you lost your sense of humour years ago."

Isidro merely shrugged. "When you're my age and studying law, you have to take advantage of every chance to be humorous. Especially towards little sisters," he grinned.

Aylina snorted with a dismissive laugh. "Oh yes, because twenty is so old, practically ancient. Really Issie, shouldn't you be enjoying yourself at this age? Probably having, let me see…fun?"

Her elder sighed. "Lina, not everyday can be a party or a carefree adventure. Life isn't always going to be blissfully perfect."

"I never said it was," she playfully countered. "You forget, dear brother that I've spent the last year at boarding school in London, diligently obeying the orders of my horrid headmaster, having to put up with those wretched gossips that show no mercy with their vicious lies, and suffering that gloomy, overcast weather almost every day. So please, don't go reminding me that life isn't perfect."

It hadn't been an easy semester for Aylina. True, she was still an exceptional student and remained popular among her pupils at Whitehall Academy, yet the rumours about her, spread by the school's fellow young 'ladies' were starting to take their toll. She had given them a little 'payback', as they say in America, through a series of small, mostly innocent pranks that finally silenced their dripping mouths. When school was dismissed for summer holidays, she had breathed a sigh of relief.

Now returned to her sun-dappled kingdom, Aylina was free to do what she wished once again. Nothing could stop her from attending/throwing lavish parties and riding her horse Chausiku across the beach, or have anyone tell her that she shouldn't listen to 'old-fashioned racket' that was jazz. The only articles of importance would be attending to royal duty when called and to remain in her grandmother's good graces.

The princess lay back on her chaise, settling into rest. Isidro opened his laptop and tapped at the keys, creating a new document. All was peaceful for a few moments, until the sound of heavy footsteps broke the quiet resolve.

Aylina gazed at the valet that stood towering over her small frame. Yet this wasn't just _any_ valet; from his polished uniform and dark blue sash, he was part of the Queen's personal staff. _What on earth?_ she thought. Higher servants hardly left their posts unless the Queen had sent order for them to find someone.

The valet bowed respectfully to Aylina and Isidro, acknowledging them as, "Your Highness." Turning to Aylina, he crisply replied, "Princess, _Quila_ Vangel and _Pruto_ Kanvar wish to speak with you." "Immediately," he added when he noticed the look of disbelief in her eyes.

Aylina blinked a few times before replying, "Of course. Just allow me to change," she pointed to her bathing suit, "And I'll meet with them in 30 minutes."

The valet nodded, turning on his heel to report back to his mistress. Aylina exited the pool, grabbing a fresh towel from a servant nearby. "What's all this about?" she inquired to Isidro.

The prince placed his device down, escorting his sister inside. "Your guess is as good as mine," he replied. "But, if Grandmother and Papa have summoned your presence, well, chances are it cannot be good either way."

Aylina rolled her eyes at him, although deep down she was truly worried. Her grandmother was a great ruler, compassionate and understanding, and if it had just been her perhaps Aylina wouldn't have minded. Yet her father involved as well? This could only mean one thing; the princess was in huge trouble. 'Why' she had yet to find out.

* * *

**_Chapter 1 of Magic in the Air Tonight concludes for now. Read & Review!_**

**_On my profile page, I posted a link to what I thought the royal palace may look like. Feel free to check it out._**

**_Also, for any who don't comprehend Maldekesh, the Maldonian dialect, I'm using a mixture of Spanish, Swahili and other phrases from popular fics here (my apologies to other writers who came up with them, I did not intend to steal). _**

**_Here are the terms in English:_**

**Nomia ~ Sweetheart**

**Di Fraggi Pruto ~ The Frog Prince**

**Achidanza ~ Amazing or a synonym exclaiming great delight**

**Omnikali ~ The name of the Royal Family**

**Isola Sivaan ~ The Maldonian captial **

**Yvanoi Palace ~ The official residence of the Royal Family**

**Sharbazan ~ Sherbert or sheer ice**

**Proyectista ~ Schemer**

**Quila ~ Queen**

**Pruto ~ Prince**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

25 minutes later, Aylina was received in the Queen's study. Two Royal _Asikari _stood on duty by the door, their staggering height and cold, stern frowns boring into her like icy daggers. Aylina shuddered as she passed by. If they could still give _her _chills after all these years, then her grandmother's security personal were doing their jobs.

She nervously ran her fingers through her thick, damp hair as she paced outside the doors. The princess would have blown-dry her dark ebony curls if given the time, yet she had been rushed by Zarha to dress and look as presentable as possible. When one was royalty, appearance was everything, no matter what the occasion; whether a ball, a press conference, or a summons with the monarch herself.

The double doors swung open, admitting Aylina inside. Gathering her wits, she walked gracefully through the curtained entranceway and into her grandmother's office.

Her Majesty Queen Evangeline 'Vangel' of Maldonia was seated abaft a polished mahogany desk, signing various documents with a quick, steady hand. Behind her stood her youngest son, Prince Kanvar, staring out the window with a twisted frown and a look of serious contemplate upon his fine features. The two glanced simultaneously at Aylina as she stood before them.

"You wished to see me?" she spoke calmly, keeping her voice even.

"Yes, we did," the Queen answered.

"Have a seat Aylina," Prince Kanvar said, motioning to one of the upholstered visiting chairs in front of the Queen's desk.

The princess did as she was told and settled into the rich leather of the seat, noting the disapproving, yet troubled tones her elders spoke in. Evangeline arouse from her desk and searched through an open drawer, pulling out what appeared to be a magazine article. Kanvar continued to gaze at his daughter with disproval for several moments.

Aylina sighed. "What exactly am I here for?" she demanded, growing more anxious with the uncomfortable silence.

The Queen narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps you can answer that question for us," she said. The magazine slapped down hard on her desk, allowing the young royal to look upon the cover page.

It was a picture of Aylina, in a glittering party dress with her hair in a mess, makeup smeared and a wild expression plastered on her face, looking like a mix between a crazy person and an untamed drunk. In bold _Maldekesh_ print were the words, 'Aylina's Wild Night' with a smaller caption stating: 'Maldonia's pampered princess is heading for palatial pandemonium'.

"Care to explain this?" Kanvar urged.

"Um…well," Aylina gulped. "It's certainly not what one may expect to see everyday," she replied apprehensively.

"Yes, because I can assure you, this is not the way a princess is suppose to behave," Evangeline returned in a serious, cold tone.

"_Faldi faldonza_, how could you've been so completely reckless Lina?" her _vaturah_ roared. "I thought with you out of school for the holidays there would be no more _further _reports of your elaborate undertakings. But instead, you decide to shame our family with this display of childish and savage behaviour."

"I go to one party and you act as though the world will soon end!" Aylina fumed in frustration. So she made have acted a little foolishly. It had been one affair, for Allah's sake! She wasn't like this at all the other parties she attended over the years.

'_Or am I'? _She thought.

"I wouldn't go to that extreme, but your little scandal has indeed caught the nation's eye," the Queen said. There was no bitter anger or resentment in her soft voice. Just….a great deal of disappointment.

She sighed. "It is nothing less of an embarrassment to the Royal Family."

"An embarrassment? More so an outrage-"

"My son, please," Evangeline soothed. To her granddaughter, "Aylina, it is clear to me that the stress of school and frivolous ways of Court life have taken its toll upon you. And this," she pointed to the tabloid, "has been your response."

Aylina didn't dare to glance at the sheet, or her grandmother. At the moment, she felt too ashamed of what has passed to stare her straight in the eye. It was the first time in a long while that she was accustomed to such guilt.

Normally, when the princess was in a troubling situation, she would smile charmingly at the prosecutor and reply in a smooth, sweet-sounding voice, "Why, I was not familiar that such an occurrence had taken place. Surely we could work out some agreement to resolve this conflict? Say, over a private dinner between the two of us, yes?" And if persuasion didn't work, well, bribery was always an option.

However, now was not the time for such flattery and deceit.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Oh, no doubt about that," her father replied. "Since it is evident you cannot conduct yourself properly here, your grandmother and I feel it best that leave Maldonia for the summer-"

"What!" the princess shrieked. No, no this couldn't be happening! She had not waited over nine months in another country to return home, only to be sent away again. "Please, please don't make me leave! Allow me to stay in the kingdom, I'll do anything!" she begged.

"The decision's been made Aylina. Please believe me when we say we do this for your own good," the queen responded gently, yet firmly. "Now, I've taken the liberty of arranging for your transport and accommodations in New Orleans…"

"New Orleans?" questioned Aylina. The mention of the city eased the gnawing tension in mind, softening the blow ever so slightly. She had always dreamed of going to New Orleans, a metropolis of rich French/Creole culture and one of the many 'birthplaces' of jazz. The Royal Family's influence there had been established since the 20s when her great-grandmother, Queen Tiana of Maldonia, opened her famed restaurant. The current monarch had described it as a place of beauty and warmth, laughter and entertainment, where arrays of the most delicious-sounding food that you've ever tasted came into harmony, with music pouring out of every window on a loose, swinging beat.

"Yes," Evangeline continued. "You are to stay with your aunt, the Princess Ashia, for the rest of the summer until your father and I see fit that you may return home. Hopefully by then you'll have gained new insight on responsibility. I'm certain that Jordan will help you adjust to American customs during your time there."

"You do remember your cousin, do you not?" the prince inquired.

"Yes, of course," Aylina responded. They had been playmates as little girls when Jordan and her parents came to visit Maldonia. Although, it had been years since she last saw her cousin and childhood friend personally. Neither letter, nor email, nor phone call had ever been received. Moreover, it wasn't considered proper for a royal to contact someone without notice.

Still, New Orleans! It wouldn't be like her beloved Maldonia, this much she knew, yet visiting in an exotic and wild city seemed far more appealing than being sent back to England. She could stroll through the old streets in the renowned French Quarter, shop in various little novelty boutiques, and listen to-no, be _surrounded _all day and night by the songs of blues and jazz!

"Aylina, please say something," the prince asked with worry.

"This…this is wonderful!" Aylina exclaimed. "_Achidanza_! I've always dreamt of to New Orleans. Oh, thank you so very much, Papa." She jumped from her seat and fled into her _vaturah's _arms.

Kanvar stood still, genuinely confused. He believed this news would send his only daughter into a furious fit of rage. He had been prepared for such an outcome, prepared to witness her anger and resentment while he watched, sadden by the way she felt. Instead, his _prutta katiti _was hugging him.

"Oh," he murmured. "Well, ah, I…"

"Excellent," the Queen said, satisfied. "I'm glad this little matter has been taken care of." She arouse from behind her desk to acknowledge Aylina. "I suggest that you summon Zarha to start packing your things. You leave in two days time."

"Yes Grandmother. May I go know?" she asked incredulously.

Evangeline frowned at her lack of orderly conduct, but gave only a nod and replied, "Yes, you have my consent to leave. I must continue to sort through these new legislation demands in Parliament." She returned to a seated position.

"Of course," Aylina said. With that, the princess bowed in respect to the monarch and the prince, and exited the study with an aura of confidence and giddiness.

As he watched the doors close behind his daughter, Kanvar turned to his mother and said, "Well, she seems satisfied. For now, anyway."

"Yes, she does," the Queen spoke. "Although, I was rather surprised that she did not comprehend a deeper meaning behind my demand."

"You're sending her a city she's dreamt of since childhood. Its natural her mind would be clouded; why would she think anything is afoot?" the Prince remarked. "Mother," he added in a troubled voice, "You know I would never doubt your judgment, but…" Here he paused. "Do you honestly believe sending Aylina to _New Orleans _of all places is such a wise decision?"

Evangeline starred at him through her glasses. Giving her youngest son a smirk, she replied, "Kanvar, we've been over this. Aylina greatly lacks responsibility and purpose in her life. Sending her to work under your sister for the summer at the restaurant will hopefully open her eyes to the rewarding dignity of physical labour."

"I believe you forgot to mention to her the work, not play she'll have to endure over the summer."

"Ah, she made the assumptions of a holiday herself. It will be far more bearable for all of us of us if Lina embarks in a positive manner. By the time she arrives, the truth will be known to her."

"And you're certain Ashia will keep her in line?" Kanvar questioned.

"She has her grandmother's spirit, drive, and determination. A woman of work ethics and family love. If anyone can straighten out a lazy bump-on-the-log," she added in one of her mother's favourite sayings, "it will be Ashia."

"I do hope you are right Mama," the younger royal addressed. "I pray she will not hate me for this," he continued dismally.

Evangeline paced over toward her son, placing her hand on his shoulder in comfort. "If she truly loves her father as much as you love her, she'll forgive you," she whispered, assuaging his fears.

Kanvar kissed her affectionately on the cheek before making his leave. "A lazy bump-on-the-log, huh?" he chuckled. "Just like Grandfather once was?"

The Queen smiled. "Exactly."

He rendered the beam as he bowed before her and left the room.

Having the study to herself once again, Evangeline returned to her papers in silence, suppressing a grin as she focused back on the task before her. For a moment, she glanced at a small, silver-framed photograph by the edge of her desk's surface. It depicted her father Naveen in his younger days before being crowned King, holding a then 6-year-old princess in his arms. The warm, roguish smile on his handsome face starred back at the old woman, reminding her of the energetic, confident man known for his reckless charm and musical passion.

The same traits her granddaughter carried upon herself today.

'_Ah yes,' _Evangeline thought. _'Just like you Papa. Just like you.'_

* * *

**_I'd like to personally thank Ima, Girly Aussie 101 and Hermionerroxx77 for giving me my first reviews for this fanfic! Hopefully I'll be receiving more comments from other writers soon, hint, hint. Please continue to Read & Review!_**

**Maldekesh words:**

**Asikari ~ Guards**

**Vangel ~ The Maldonain spelling for Evangeline, means angel or gracious host**

**Faldi Fandonza ~ 'Oh My' or a variation of that phrase, sometimes used for swearing**

**Vaturah ~ Father**

**Prutta ~ Princess**

**Katiti ~ Little **


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Hmm humph, yes, yes…alright, I will have her picked up tomorrow when her flight arrives. And a friend you say is coming along? Oh, he's not staying with her. Okay, thank you Mama. I will see you in a week from now. Yes, of course. Goodbye."

Ashia clicked the _end _button and replaced the phone on its receiver. She leaned against the wall, sighing with two fingers pressed against the bridge of her nose. When her mother had asked her to take in Kanvar's daughter for the summer, she was hesitant at first. She had heard of her niece's extravagant and expensive ways, no doubt the result of her brother spoiling Aylina rotten for years.

She had little experience in dealing with high maintenance girls. Growing up, Jordan was always so content with what she had and never frequently demanded for anything. Not even her technical status as a Princess of Maldonia ever came close to affecting her ways. Of course, Ashia had seen to it that her children were taught responsibility, manners, self-determination and the importance of love from a young age. In this way Jordan, Caden and Cassiopeia may grow to become independent and make their own dreams happen.

Footsteps echoed down the hall and into the kitchen. Ashia looked up to see her husband enter the room, a small grin on his face as he made his way over to her.

"Rough day?" Scott murmured, wrapping his arms around her slim waist.

"No, just confirmation on Aylina's visit," she replied, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

"Hmm." he hummed in recognition. "Ashie," he said with concern, using her old nickname.

"What?" she asked.

"You sure about doin' this? I mean, it's not like we don't have 'nough on our plate right now…"

"Scott, I promised Kanvar and my mother. They are very worried about Aylina's well being and think a little…positive influence would be good for her."

"I know. But with the gala in less than three weeks how we gonna manage it? Ya'll be swamped with work and I'll be following your every command."

"Well," Ashia began, "I was hoping that Jordan could be of assistance by showing Aylina 'the ropes'. I know it is not right to place a task like this on her, but, seeing as how they are both teenage girls, they might relate better to one another."

"Speaking of our lil' girl where is she?" Scott asked.

"Getting the twins as we speak. They should be back soon," Ashia answered. "That is, if James hasn't kept them there and bored them to death with stories 'from the old days.'"

There was a pause for a moment before Scott spoke again. "Does she know?"

"Hmm?"

"Does Jordan know that Aylina is coming to stay?"

"Actually…I never got around to telling her."

Scott groaned. "Ashie, this isn't like you."

"I know!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "I should have told her sooner, but I didn't know how she would take it. The girls haven't seen each other since they were eight; it would be like introducing a stranger to her."

"Let me guess the other reason, for I'm sure there is one," sighed Scott. "You've been so set on makin' the gala perfect that it slipped your mind?"

"A little," Ashia admitted, her face burning with chagrin.

Her husband laughed heartily. "You're so cute when you blush," he said. "Reminds me of when we first met; two business graduates colliding into one another on the streets. You, turnin' a bright red when I fell into that pile of mud."

"Don't remind me," Ashia groaned. "At least one of us can laugh about it."

"Yeah," Scott said. "Little did I know that I would fall in love with this stranger, who was really a beautiful princess, trying to escape her ivory tower."

"Polished marble dear," Ashia giggled.

"Ivory, marble, what's the difference?" Scott murmured has he leaned into his wife's neck, kissing the base of her throat lovingly.

* * *

Jordan tapped her fingernails impatiently against the worn wood of the bench seats. She gave a swift glance of her surroundings out of boredom, spotting a young man gazing steadily out the window, a young couple leaning on one another's shoulder, an old man reading the Sunday newspaper. It seemed to be taking forever for the cable car to reach her destination in the Garden District.

She was tempted into dozing off-her late night schedules did have their toll on her sleep cycle- when the driver called over the intercom, "Magnolia Lane! Last call for St. Charles Ave and Magnolia Lane!"

Jordan shot up in alert at the mention of the street name. Gathering her things into her bag, she trampled off the car and with a polite farewell to the driver, turned on her heel up the lane.

The route she was currently on was lined with beautiful, elegant old mansions and estates, their towering Roman columns and intricately woven balconies giving an imposing presence. To Jordan, they've always reminded her of fancy, over-dressed wedding cakes. Then again, she preferred simplicity to grandeur.

The teenager continued down the row until she reached a familiar manor at 509 Magnolia Lane. It was smaller than most of the houses on the block, yet it had a quiet, regal elegance and stately appearance within the cream-coloured walls and the welcoming arched windows. She paused for a brief moment to admire the lovely house while opening the ancient gates.

Only ten steps away from the door she was attacked by a sudden blur of brown and white fur. Hearing the sounds of thudding paws on grass and a deep, aggressive growl, Jordan shrieked as Sonny made a leap for her.

"Ahh!" she screamed as the huge mixed Labrador pounded upon her, showering his mistress with sloppy kisses.

"Ah! No, no, Sonny, get off!" Jordan exclaimed, her voice full of laughter. She giggled as her beloved pet continued to lick her neck and face, whimpering a silent _I missed you _to her.

"Sonny! Yes, I missed you too," she murmured. She finally managed to struggle out of the giant puppy's grip, giving him a warm hug of welcome.

The front doors swung open just then to reveal the crinkled, fierce face of Jordan's great aunt Rosalind. She gasped in shock, consumed with chagrin and worry at the sight of her niece being attacked by the family's crazed mutt.

"Oh my goodness! Jordan, you alright?" Aunt Rose fled toward the young girl, with a gait quite impressive for an 83-year-old lady. "Oh, you poor thing," she said, helping Jordan to her feet.

"Sonny, you bad dog!" Aunt Rose snapped to the panting Labrador. Turning to Jordan, "I'm so sorry sugah. I told ya brother to keep him on his leash, but as usual no one listens to me!" she lamented.

"Um, speakin' of my brother and his twin…." Jordan motioned to the doorway where her 7-year-old siblings Caden and Cassiopeia (Cassie for short), came flying out in search of their dog.

"Nice going! Ya'll let Sonny out!" Caden shot at his sister.

"Me? You're the one who let go of the leash," Cassie spat back. "I only opened the door so he could play and runna 'round." The little girl stuck her tongue out at her twin, he returning the childish action. Both began blowing raspberries in a competitive-like stance before their big sister could intervene.

"Hey, knock it off you two!" Jordan stepped in between their silly little squabble, separating them at arms length. The brother-sister duo stepped back diligently, with Cassie hugging her sister's leg in a tight embrace. "Hi Jordy," she grinned brightly, admiring her personal hero in the sunlight.

"Hey babycakes," Jordan grinned down at her. She reached down to embrace her siblings. "Good to see ya'll haven't killed each other yet."

"It wasn't my fault," Cassie insisted. "If Cade hadn't let go of the dang leash-"

"I was gettin' tired," Caden interrupted. "Cass shouldn't have opened the dang door-"

"Children, please!" Rosalind sighed. "And don't say dang, it leads to swearin'," she chided.

The tap of a cane acknowledged another presence in the yard as an old man with rich brown skin and short, snowy gray hair walked through the door.

"What's all the commotion out here?" he questioned with his Southern drawl. "Sounds to me like I'm reliving World War II with ya'll shoutin' at the top of your lungs."

"Sorry Uncle James," Jordan said apologetically, walking over to him. "Ya know how carried away my younger siblings can get."

"Yeah, considerin' the fact that I've dealt with it for the past six years," he chuckled. "But enough of that. Give me a hug darlin'. Been a while since I've laid eyes on you."

"'A while' bein' a week and a half ago," Jordan retorted, leaning in the old man's broad chest and wrapping her arms around him.

"Really?" James questioned jokingly. "Well, can you blame an 84-year-old man with prostate cancer? My memory's not what it used to be."

"Oh, you ol' rascal," Rosalind smiled. "Always makin' a crack to be praised for ya wit."

"What? I can't help it if I'm a paragon of compliments," he grinned charmingly at her.

"'Specially after all these years," Aunt Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Well now, how bout we all head inside for some tea and cookies? A little snack just before ya'll leave, hmm?" she offered to Jordan.

"Well, that's mighty fine of ya, Aunt Rose," Jordan began. "But I don't think-"

"Cookies?" exclaimed Caden, his dark orbs lit in delight.

"Freshly baked," Rosalind said.

"Oh, can we Jordy? Please, please, please?" Cassie begged to her sister, her chocolate brown eyes, the same colour of her twin's, giving off the look of a sad puppy. Even Sonny whimpered alongside Cassie in harmony, their combined moans tearful enough to make even the hardest of hearts melt.

Jordan groaned in defeat. "Oh, can those eyes get any bigger? Fine, we'll stay."

"Yay!" Cassie and Caden cheered. The two trailed back inside, with Rosalind and Sonny following their lead.

"But only 15 minutes! No more, no less," she shouted after them.

Chuckling at their exuberance, James took Jordan by the arm and led her through the main hall. He had to hand it to his great-niece; she certainly was disciplined.

* * *

The sunny, old-fashioned private parlour of the mansion was a curious thing. The furniture was mostly antique, with one or two modern reading chairs situated near the fireplace. A small Plasma screen TV hung from the wall opposite the entranceway, and everywhere you looked, there was row after row of brightly-coloured portraits and black-and-white photographs; hanging from the walls, perched on the side tables, stacked on the polished walnut bookcase.

To Jordan, it was perfectly ridiculous that her family should have so many pictures displayed in here. Yet Uncle James wouldn't hear of taking them down. To him, these were decade's worth of cherished memories. He wasn't getting any younger, and his sharp mind had become stale during the last 15 years. It was nice to come in here, look a particular image, and recall when it was taken and why. This way, he could still remember the happy times he and his family had shared.

Although she would never admit it, Jordan did enjoy gazing at the old photographs. There was something fascinating about being surrounded by nearly a century worth of family history. From her seat in the parlour, she saw pictures of Uncle James and Grandmother Evangeline in their childhood days, along with her deceased great-grandparents Tiana and Naveen, doing various things; posing for formal portraits, working in the restaurant, playing in the garden, competing in sports, socializing at balls, and, simply being a family. One could see the togetherness and love radiating from each other.

"What 'bout that one Uncle James?" Caden asked pointing to another photo, his soft brown eyes burning with curiosity.

"What? That ol' one?" James motioned to the snapshot of a man, his face covered in what appeared to be lemon meringue pie. "Oh, that's my daddy. Lina and I took it in, oh, I don't know, 1938 probably when he thought no was looking."

"Is that pie on his face?"

"Sure is. Let's just say my mother wasn't too happy with him that day."

The twins laughed, doubling-over on the floor. Sonny, laying on his back grinned lazily, his tongue loped out of one side of his mouth eying Cassie's cookie with a playful, hungry look. Rosalind merely smiled at her husband's remark and sipped her tea while Jordan joined in with her brother and sister's mirth.

"Wow Uncle James, you must know everythin' 'bout these," Cassiopeia claimed, acknowledging the dozens of old prints.

"Naw, not everything sweet pea, but plenty enough," James said soflty. "'Sides, if I knew everything-"

"His head would be bigger than it already is," Rosalind finished off.

James gave an annoyed glare at his wife. "I was gonna say that there'd be nothin' interesting in life for us to wonder about, thank you very much Rose."

"My pleasure darlin'", she smirked charmingly back.

Jordan may have commented, if her attention wasn't focused on something else. It was a picture of James and Evangeline as teenagers. Her uncle had been quite the handsome young man back in his day. Rich brown skin, black curly hair, an angular face with his father's square jaw, and though she couldn't make out the colour, honey hazel eyes that burned with mischief. Evangeline too, was irresistibly gorgeous, with dark, luscious curls and mid-tone tanned skin, elegant cheek bones and her mother's caramel brown orbs and full lips. Smiles with polished white teeth lit up the youths' faces, easily holding a person's appeal.

Yet their mesmerizing beauty wasn't why Jordan refused to look away. In the far background of this particular snapshot, was a very dark, very sinister-looking shadow. She couldn't make out the image clearly, for the photo was blurred, yet it almost looked as though the shadow was about to lunge at her great-uncle and grandmother. The menacing adumbration gave Jordan the creeps, sending pulsing shivers down her spine.

And stranger yet, why did she feel that this was a personal matter?

Suddenly, she jumped. Her cell phone lit up just then, blaring out an R&B ringtone of smooth beat.

Jordan rummaged through her bag and flipped out her cell phone, glancing at the screen. Why was her mom calling her? _'Oh, no doubt she's wondering if her children are being held hostage by their crazy, ranting uncle,' s_he thought to herself, stifling a giggle.

"Um, I gotta take this, I'll be right back," she mouthed to James. Quickly, she exited the private parlour and leaned against the wall in the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Jordan, _nomia_? I'm glad I reached you. We need to talk."

* * *

**_I apologize that this chapter wasn't very eventful, it serves more as a filler chapter to explore Jordan's relationships with her family and bring in new characters. This is also a fore-shadowing chapter for what is to come. Things will start to pick up in Chapter 4. Until then, Read & Review!_**

**_And for those who are interested, check out my profile for a pic of James' family mansion._**


End file.
